


Not in The Job Description

by WandererRiha



Category: FFXV - Fandom, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Awkward boys are awkward, Awkwardness, First Time, M/M, Nothing explicit, Virgin Sacrifice, arranged something, no not like that, off-camera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:34:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22901776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WandererRiha/pseuds/WandererRiha
Summary: Noctis has to do a lot of weird stuff as king. This, however, takes the cake.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia, Noctis/Ignis
Comments: 12
Kudos: 108
Collections: Ignis whump February exchange





	Not in The Job Description

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crabapplered](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crabapplered/gifts).



Noctis hated the pageantry, spectacle, and godsdamned _fuss_ that came with being prince. He was supposed to be good at boring shit like balancing accounts and keeping the peace with other countries. Why was he constantly being put on display like some sort of show animal? If he’d wanted to be an actor, he would have gone to drama school. Or maybe military school. Sure, he was being trained in combat and tactics but...it was a whole other level of extra when one was at war with a nation that primarily fought with zillions of angry robots.

As the Council, his father, and pretty much everyone he’d run into for the last two weeks had reminded him: Insomnia needed all the help it could get. Which was why they had dusted off some slightly unorthodox rituals.

“A _WHAT?_ ” Noctis demanded, not caring that his voice had chipped to a falsetto shriek.

“A virgin sacrifice,” his father said, maddeningly calm.

“You’re shitting me. You are actually, literally shitting me,” Noctis said, forgetting to curb his tongue in front of his father and king. “How-- How _could_ you!”

“It’s not that kind of sacrifice,” his father went on. “No one’s going to be burned at the stake or fed to courels or anything like that.”

Noctis felt his blood pressure plummet, leaving him slightly dizzy. He fell back into the chair he’d surged out of, the better to shout at his father.

“Oh. Okay. So. No death. That’s good.” A pause. “If no one’s dying, what _are_ we doing?”

“It’s not the person, so much as their...innocence that’s being sacrificed.”

Noctis stared stupidly. “Wait. Are you telling me I’ve got to… to… _sleep_ with someone?”

His father sighed, rubbed his eyes as if he already had a full-fledged version of the migraine forming behind Noctis’ eyes. “Yes.”

“So…. _I’m_ the virgin sacrifice?”

“Technically, no, although I suppose it would count. Normally, the king’s partner is the sacrifice.”

“If it’s not my virginity, then whose is it?” The possibilities were few, the consequences alarming. There weren’t _that_ many noble kids his age, and he knew for a fact that quite a few of them wouldn’t exactly be eligible for something like this. What if it was someone he knew? He’d never be able to look them in the eye again. What if it was someone he’d never met? Could he just...yanno...with a stranger? Probably not. Were they into it? Had they volunteered, or were they being strong-armed much as he was himself?

“Dad… I get that like, Niflheim’s big and bad and we’re probably gonna get our asses kicked but...how does this help anything? Do the gods really care about who I f-- bone? Are they like, watching mortal porn from the sacred realm eating celestial popcorn?”

Regis chuckled at that. “I’ve no idea, only there is proof that it works. Magical boost or something like that. One of the court mages explained it to me and it made sense at the time, but I doubt I could replicate her speech.”

Noctis contemplated the carpet.

“This isn’t something you can do?” Not that he liked the idea of his dad getting it on with some random person who’d never had sex before. Like, okay, his mom had been dead for a long time, Regis was still a living, breathing human man who was probably really lonely and….yeah, no. Stopping right there.

“As much as I’d prefer to take this responsibility myself, I will not be leading the troops into battle. You will. Therefore, this duty must fall to you.”

Noctis exhaled a four-letter word that usually would have gotten him an arched eyebrow and a short “ _Language_ ” for his profanity. Instead, all Regis said was:

“I’m afraid so.”

Despite himself, Noctis snorted a laugh.

“This is messed-up, dad.”

“Yes it is.”

“But we might all die if I don’t?”

“It’s possible.”

“But we might all die less if I do?”

“Again, it’s possible.”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

Regis smiled sadly. “There’s always a choice, Noctis.”

 _No,_ Noctis thought, _there isn’t._

\--

At least, Noctis reflected, the spectacle could have been worse. By royal standards, this was pretty tame. He got the feeling a _lot_ of things had been trimmed. The texts he’d scrounged had mentioned a ritual bath and a full procession from the palace to an outdoor pavilion where the king would publicly deflower- behind a curtain, but _still_ \- the sacrifice. This was followed by a ritual undressing of the king, a prayer for success, and then the king ducking behind the curtain and doing his royal duty while like fifteen court officials stood around outside and...not watched, but probably made things super awkward.. Afterwards, the king would put on some clothes and offer the blood of the sacrifice’s maidenhead- the texts only mentioned women- to the gods. The whole thing sounded gross and wrong on _so_ many levels. By comparison, the setup he’d been presented with was pretty low-key.

So far as Noctis knew, this was not front-page news. Insomnia was desperately outnumbered and out-gunned, but the less the public knew about that, the better. Noctis had to suffer the ritual bath which involved far more assistance and perfume than he was really comfortable with. There were limits to how much he was willing to put on display, and the perfume made him sneeze. Dressed in a silk bathrobe, he was led to one of the Citadel courtyards.

Evidently the stone table that had been used in ye olden days was still here. Noctis had vague memories of it as a small kid, and being told it was an altar used by the kings of old. It occurred to him that no one had told his ten-year-old self what they had used it _for_. The shape of it reminded him of the funeral effigies in tombs- narrow at the bottom and wider at the top, like a cake stand for people, only square and made of granite. Except there was no statue on top of this altar, just plain sanded stone.

A pavilion- it looked like one they’d been using for summer solstice and gods that just made it _worse_ \- had been set up over it. At least they’d have some privacy. Sort of. There were no guards that Noctis could see, but there were probably Glaives guarding every entrance, and whispering slightly inappropriate jargon back and forth to each other on their ear pieces. The curtain fluttered as if beckoning to him. At least the fifteen or so court officials had been replaced by a handful of ministers who had bowed to him at the door and left him to make his way to the altar alone.

Welp. So long, virginity. Funny. Most people were more...excited about their first time, weren’t they? Taking a deep breath, Noctis climbed the stairs and ducked beneath the curtain, pausing long enough to find the strips of velcro and stick it closed. It was dark, only the faint light of the courtyard footpath lamps offering any ambience to see by.

Someone was already lying on the altar. It was difficult to make out more than an outline. Gods this was so awkward. Was he supposed to introduce himself? Apologize? Just climb on top of them and get it over with? He still had no idea who had volunteered- or not, they wouldn’t tell him- for this. The figure on the altar shifted. At least they’d had a sheet draped over them, which was a lot better than being chained naked to a stone slab, or so the history books had said.

“Um, hi,” he began awkwardly. “I just want to apologize right now for...everything, really. Just...just tell me one thing. Did you volunteer for this, or did my dad and the Council force you?”

Silence weighed heavy and awful for several seconds.

“No one forced me, although I cannot say that I volunteered.”

Noctis felt his jaw hit the floor, followed closely by his stomach. He _knew_ that voice!

“Holy shit. _Ignis?_ ” He edged forward, trying to squint through the darkness. Eventually he hit the right distance as a familiar pair of glasses flashed in the dim light. A lesser glint of teeth appeared as Ignis offered a sheepish little smile.

“Good evening, your Highness.”

Noctis stood there gaping, dumbstruck for several seconds before he managed:

“What. The actual. Fuck.”

Ignis shrugged as well as he could with both hands pinned above his head. “Apparently I was the only virgin to be found on short notice. Also, it was agreed that it would be best if you were presented with someone familiar. Please know I was not coerced. I will admit to having...feelings for you that are not strictly professional. I only wish the circumstances were different.”

Noctis stared, his brain still struggling parse what Ignis had just said. It had gotten stuck on how Ignis looked: obviously naked beneath the sheet, hands bound by soft cotton rope with plenty of slack to an iron ring at the head of the altar. It was considerably better than the chains of old, clearly an attempt to meet the historic requirements while allowing the victim some measure of comfort. That didn’t make it any less creepy to Noctis.

“Okay, no,” he approached the altar and began to untie the knots. “Like, I can leave these if it’s your kink or something,” he offered, awkward.

“It makes no difference to me.”

“Then I’d rather you have your hands free. Makes it feel less like I’m taking advantage.”

“Thank you,” Ignis told him, sitting up and rubbing delicately at each wrist. “My hands were starting to fall asleep.”

Noctis smiled. This was so messed-up. “So...you’re into me?”

Ignis looked away, and Noctis could swear he could feel the heat of Ignis blushing, even if he couldn’t see it.

“I was content to remain your friend and advisor. I did not want to complicate our relationship. It had been my intent to remain silent on the subject. I need not remind you that our lives are not our own.”

“Did dad know?”

“It was he who suggested I be presented as the sacrifice.”

Noctis thought about that. “So he thought he was doing you a favor. And me.”

“Unless you’d rather not?”

“Like you said, not like this. Could be worse, I guess. I mean, not often your parents are gonna be like ‘go forth and fornicate with my blessing’.”

Ignis snickered. “Indeed.”

“I still don’t understand why your cherry is so important to the gods.”

“Something about blood spilt, essence of life offered freely in return for sparing lives on the battlefield.”

“Okay, so, why can’t I just prick my thumb or something?”

“All sources agree that doesn’t count.”

“Why? It’s still willingly donated blood. Why’s it gotta be so...you know,” he made a vague gesture, “personal?”

“I believe that is the crux of the matter,” Ignis went on. Noctis hopped up to sit on the edge of the altar as if they were simply chatting side by side on the sofa in his apartment. This much he could deal with; the two of them talking, Ignis explaining something arcane and obscure that had no business making sense in any context.

“It’s supposed to be an equal exchange; a virgin’s flower in trade for the lives of soldiers. In a sense, it’s their childhood that’s being sacrificed. The life of one innocent in trade for those with hands less clean.”

Noctis nodded, sort of, kind of, almost understanding the logic behind it, and hating it all the more.

“You haven’t been a kid for a long time, Specs. I’m the one who was allowed to hang on to childhood and as normal a life as I could manage. Not you.”

“It’s been my privilege--”

“I know,” Noctis cut him off, waving his remarks away. “I know that. It just. It doesn’t seem fair, especially not to you. I mean yeah, okay, I kinda want you too but...like you said: literally any other time and place.”

“Quite. And yet…” Ignis trailed off, reluctant to finish the sentence. It wasn’t as if he needed to. They both knew what he meant.

“And yet,” Noctis agreed. They had to do the thing. There was no way around it. This wasn’t something they could fake or cheat on.

“If I may?” Ignis hedged. “You said yourself, we’ve been given a rare opportunity for some licensed misbehavior. Perhaps we should attempt to make the best of a bad situation?”

“Think you’ll be able to look me in the eye afterward?”

Ignis fixed him with his eyes in the dim light. “Certainly.”

“Well. Okay then.” Deciding to go for broke, Noctis stretched and kissed him.


End file.
